


There's a Chance We Could Make It

by Chash



Series: All the Feelings That You're Making Me Feel [2]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Childhood Friends, F/M, Parent Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24008875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: Bellamy is the first person in his family to get his soulmark. It doesn't really seem fair.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Series: All the Feelings That You're Making Me Feel [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1731520
Comments: 32
Kudos: 682





	There's a Chance We Could Make It

**Author's Note:**

> hey y'all hope that pandemic is going okay for you!! this is Bellamy's POV for A Thing Called Love. Per the tags, it deals more with the deaths of Jake and Aurora than the original fic, which moved past them pretty quickly. Please be aware!

Bellamy's soulmark is so _obvious_. It's always been pretty easy to spot, if you look closely, the pattern of dots darker than his other freckles, but once it's filled in, it's so much worse. He already feels like he's got a sign pointing at him that says _I got sent to the principal's office_ (even though Clarke was the one who punched _him_ ) and now he's coming back with a black star on his face and everyone has a billion questions that he's already tired of answering. Yes, he has a soulmate. Yes, she goes to school here. No, they're not getting married. No, he doesn't know why she's his soulmate. 

When people ask if he likes her, he just shrugs. He barely knows her. They've had one argument and about half a conversation about being soulmates. He shouldn't like her yet, and if he does, it doesn't mean anything. He's got plenty of time to stop liking her.

The good news is, she doesn't want to kiss him. It would have been really weird if she wanted to get married or something right away. Some people are like that, he knows. There was a girl who lived in his building when he was little who was always touching his face with her fingers, hoping this time would be the time their soulmarks filled in, even though they weren't even the same shape. She did it to everyone; she just really wanted her soulmate.

Bellamy didn't want his much, and even if he tentatively likes Clarke, he wishes everyone didn't know about it. It would be bad enough if it was just all the kids at school, everyone in his class, but there's a hard lump in his stomach because it's going to be his mom and his sister too. 

He's the first person in his family to find their soulmate, and that doesn't seem right. The least the universe could do is let him keep it to himself.

If he had his way, he'd find Clarke after school, maybe see if she lives near him, if they can walk home together. But he has to pick his sister up, and the last thing he wants to do is be talking to Clarke with Octavia around. If she's his soulmate, they'll have to meet eventually, but he'd like to put it off for as long as possible.

Which probably won't be for that long, given the first thing Octavia says to him is, "You met your soulmate?"

"Yeah."

"What's her name? Is she pretty? When do I get to meet her?"

She turned six three weeks ago, and it's already his least favorite age. "Never."

"Bell," she whines, and he huffs.

"Her name is Clarke. I barely even talked to her."

"How did you find out? Where's her mark?"

Most people's are on their hands, because that's where most people make first contact. Octavia's is on her palm, so Bellamy assumes she'll meet her soulmate shaking hands. It's pretty common.

His mother's is on her back, the still-empty outline of a flower. He's always thought that someday, someone would run into her, or put their hand on her back to steady her, or maybe even put their arm around her. There are a thousand ways he can imagine her soulmate finding her, but none of them have happened yet. 

"On her knuckles. She punched me."

"She punched you?" Octavia asks, incredulous. He hopes it's because he's taught her violence isn't the answer, but-- "That's so cool!"

"No, it's not. She shouldn't have hit me, she should have talked to me instead."

"But she's your soulmate. Because she punched you."

"She's not my soulmate because she punched me," he grumbles, although it's not as if he knows for sure. Maybe her punching him is a vital part of what makes her his soulmate. Not that he's into violence, but he does like people who stand up for themselves, ones who don't back away from a fight. Plenty of people wouldn't get in an argument with someone bigger and older than they are, let alone punch them. "She's my soulmate because she's my soulmate, okay? No one knows how it works."

"Are you getting married?"

"No. We talked about it. We're not going to be soulmates who get married. We're just going to be friends."

"You're going to get married," she says, with that conviction little kids have about how the world is supposed to work. "You're soulmates."

It's not worth arguing with her. No matter what he says, she'll be convinced he and Clarke are going to get married for at least the next ten years. And she won't be the only one. He's going to have to get used to it.

He sighs. "Sure we are. How was school?"

His mother will be at work for a few more hours, but the extra time doesn't really help, at least in terms of what he's going to tell her. They don't talk much about soulmates, but he's sure it bothers her, that she hasn't found hers. It would bother him, he thinks. 

Not that he'll ever know, now. He's already got Clarke.

His mom gets home late again, after Bellamy's made macaroni and cheese for him and Octavia and started on his homework. O isn't asleep yet, but she's nodding off. He'll carry her up to bed as soon as he's done with his math worksheet.

"There's leftovers on the stove," he tells Aurora. 

She kisses the top of his head, but from behind him, so she doesn't see the mark, and he doesn't know how to tell her. The words all feel too small for the hugeness of it. All day, the whole thing has just felt like an annoyance, but now the gravity is hitting him. It was easy to be casual and annoyed when everyone just _knew_.

It's probably been that way the whole time for Clarke. Not for the first time, he wishes he could talk to her again. They had so little time together, just those brief moments before and after the principal's office, and he has a thousand questions. She's the only person in the world who understands what he's going through right now.

Which is kind of the point of soulmates, come to think of it.

"Thank you for cooking. I'm sorry I've been working so late."

"It's good, right? You're getting paid overtime."

"Still, I don't like leaving you two alone."

He could say it now, like it helps. Tell her he won't even be alone again. But just because he has a soulmate, it doesn't mean she's here. He can't talk to her all the time.

"It's okay." He clears his throat. "Something happened. At school."

"Oh?"

"My soulmate punched me in the face."

Something clatters in the kitchen. Under ordinary circumstances, he'd be worried, but it's not like he can't figure out what happened.

"Are you hurt?" his mother asks, after what feels like a hundred years.

"Not really. But it'll probably bruise."

"Well, no one will be able to see. How are they?"

"She's good, I guess. We didn't talk much. We decided we're platonic soulmates."

Another pause. "Well, I'm happy for you. You should invite her over to dinner some night when I'm not working."

He turns to a clean piece of paper in his notebook, writes _questions for Clarke_ at the top. Below, he writes the two he's come up with so far:

_1\. Was it weird to tell everyone about me?  
2\. Are your parents soulmates?_

He doesn't know when he'll get a chance to ask her, but it still feels like a good start.

*

"Bellamy, you're going to the counselor's office during free reading time."

Ms. Jenkins says it casually, without giving anything away about why. His first guess is that it's about the soulmate thing, but that seems wrong. More likely, it's about the fight, about going to the principal's office. Some follow up about conflict resolution. It felt like they got off too easily yesterday.

It's not until he's walking down that he realizes it could be about Octavia or his mom, and his blood runs cold until he sees Clarke there, already waiting.

"Hey," he says, leaning against the wall next to her.

"Hi."

"How weird was it for you?"

"Probably not as weird as it was for you. No one notices mine, so I didn't really get hit until this morning. Once people heard you found your soulmate, they put two and two together and figured out it was when I punched you."

"Yeah, I couldn't really hide it."

"Sorry."

"Too bad you didn't punch me in the shoulder."

"If I have to punch you again, I will."

He snorts, and she smiles. Somehow, it's just easy to ask, "Are your parents soulmates?"

"Yeah. Are yours?"

"No. My mom hasn't found hers. And I never met my dad."

"It must have been weird to tell her."

"So weird."

The door opens and the counselor, Mr. Mendes, gives them a smile. Bellamy hasn't interacted with him one-on-one since second grade, when his teacher thought his mom might not be taking good enough care of him, but even though it's been years, the sight of him still puts Bellamy on the defensive.

Clarke smiles for both of them. "Are we coming in together?"

"You are. Have a seat."

Mr. Mendes' office has a desk and regular chairs for parent meetings, but they're in the student area, which has couches and toys to try to make it feel comfortable. It didn't work on Bellamy when he was seven, and it's not going to work now.

"So, this is new for me," says Mr. Mendes, once Bellamy and Clarke have settled on the couch. "But soulmate counseling was a required course for my degree, so I do know the theory. It's much more common for counselors in high schools and colleges."

"Soulmate counseling?" he asks. "That's a thing?"

"It can be overwhelming. Sometimes it's beneficial to have someone else to talk to."

"We've barely even talked to each other," he snaps, before he can stop himself. He doesn't dislike Mr. Mendes, exactly, but he always makes him feel defensive. 

To his credit, Mr. Mendes looks a little sheepish. "I guess you wouldn't have. Well, I have you for the rest of the period. Why don't I go into my office and the two of you can talk in here in private? We can schedule one-on-one time if you need it, but I'm sure you have a lot more to say to each other than to me."

It's about the last thing he was expecting, but he knows better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Clarke seems to be thinking the same thing. "That's perfect, thanks."

But once they're alone, silence falls over them, the thick, awkward kind that he didn't think was supposed to happen with soulmates.

Clarke starts. "My mom's mad."

"Mad?"

"I mean, she said she was happy, but I could tell. She thinks it's too early for me to have met my soulmate. I don't know why it matters. You'd be my soulmate whenever I found you, right? It doesn't make a difference."

"I feel bad about it," he admits. "I didn't think I'd find my soulmate before my mom found hers."

"Yeah, that would be weird. What did she say?"

"Not much. That you're invited to dinner, like she's ever around for dinner now."

"Where is she?"

"Working overtime. It's good, we need the money."

Clarke shifts, uncomfortable in the way his richer friends always are when he talks about money. Clarke's family probably never worries about making rent or losing power. And it hasn't happened to the Blakes in a while either, but he still knows they don't have the enough money that they can stop worrying about money.

"Is it just you and your mom?"

"No. I have a little sister, Octavia. She's six."

"I always wanted a sibling," says Clarke, a little wistful. "I have Wells, but it's not really the same."

"Friends who are like siblings are probably better. You get a break sometimes."

"You need a break?" she teases.

"I love O, but sometimes I wish I was just taking care of myself."

He's never said the words out loud before, so maybe that's what having a soulmate is. It's someone you can say stuff to without worrying about what they'll think.

"I guess if your mom works a lot, it must be hard."

"Yeah."

"Maybe I could help."

It seems impossible. She's just some kid, a year younger than he is when a year seems like a lot. He's going to middle school next year, he'll be one of the big kids. 

But he's been worrying about that, too, wondering if he'll be able to make it over to the elementary school in time to walk her home next year. With Clarke still here, maybe he wouldn't have to. Maybe she'd come over and do her homework with him, so he'd have some company. Maybe sometimes, he and Octavia could go to her house, and her parents would let them stay for dinner. Once Clarke's mom stops being mad that he already exists.

"Yeah," he says, the words sticking in his throat. "Maybe."

*

Most of the time, Bellamy feels like a bad soulmate, which he knows is kind of stupid. It's not that he doesn't do things for Clarke, because he does, all the time. He's there whenever she needs to talk, and he helps her out with homework when she needs it, and his door is always open if she needs him.

It's just that none of that is anything special. She does all that stuff for him too, and he has more he needs to talk about, and he needs her door to be open a lot more than she needs his to be. Her parents have given him and Octavia a lot of food and presents, charity both tangible and intangible that Bellamy doesn't know how to repay. For the Griffins, it's easy, uncomplicated, the kind of privilege they can shower him with without even thinking. Clarke's family isn't just comfortable, they're _rich_ , and sometimes it feels like living in a fairy tale, like the mark on his cheek is some magic that gifted him with things he doesn't deserve.

He's in fourth-period PE when the PA crackles to life, and he's not the only one who jumps. The PA is for morning announcements, sometimes at the beginning of a period, once everyone's out of the hallways but the teachers haven't gotten a chance to start in on class.

"Bellamy Blake," says the speaker, "please report to the front office immediately."

His classmates jeer as if he's in trouble, but he can't for the life of him figure out why he would be. He hasn't done anything wrong, can't even think of anything that's happened he might have been falsely accused of.

Which means something bad happened, bad enough they interrupted the whole school just to find him. He catches the teacher's eye, waits for her to nod, and then he takes off running.

His first thoughts are always Octavia and Clarke, in that order, concern for both of them crowding his brain until all he can think about is the worst-case scenarios.

Then he sees Clarke sitting in front of the office, looking smaller than he's ever seen her, and he can't think about anything at all.

"What--" he starts, and she throws herself into his arms, burying her face against his chest, tears burning through the thin material of his gym shirt. He's never held her like this before; in three years of being soulmates, they've never even hugged. He must be the world's worst person, noticing that when she's like this. 

He strokes her hair, looking around for someone who can help out. An authority figure called him, so there must be one around to help. At least explain what happened. It has to be her parents, something bad, and he can't imagine it either. The worst thing that's ever happened to Clarke was her best friend moving away last year, and it's not like that _didn't_ suck, but some part of him thought that it wouldn't ever get worse than that for her. She has that kind of charmed life.

He'd been jealous of her, sometimes. But he wouldn't ever wish tragedy on her. He wanted to be right.

"My dad," she chokes out, before he can find anyone to do it for her. "Car crash. He didn't--he's--"

"Fuck," he breathes. "Clarke, I'm so sorry."

She shakes her head, too hard, a denial of the entire world. "My mom's coming," she manages, through gulping breaths of air. "They said you could come too."

"They weren't going to stop me."

"Yeah." She burrows closer. "How can he be _gone_?"

"I don't know." He's never had a father, not like Clarke did. There's a person in the world who contributed genetic material to his existence, but he knows less about that guy than he knows about most celebrities, and he doesn't even care about celebrities. His father has been gone for his whole life, but he never had to deal with his sudden, sharp absence. And Octavia's dad stuck around for a couple years, but Bellamy saw him leaving coming a mile away. When he'd packed up his things, Bellamy mostly wondered what took him so long.

But he likes Jake Griffin. Liked him. He'd made Bellamy feel welcome in his family right from the start. He doesn't think Jake was like a father to him, but he might have been like an uncle. An adult he felt was on his side, someone he could talk to if he needed to. He hadn't, really, but he thought he might have someday, as he got older and started dating. 

And now he won't. It isn't his loss like it is Clarke's, but he can be here for her, and he can sympathize.

"Where are we going?" he asks. "Where is your mom taking us?"

"Home, I think. She was at the hospital when they brought him in. He wasn't--he never woke up, there was never a chance, so she didn't call me. I can't believe I was just--I was in class and my dad was--"

That he understands. "Yeah." He rubs her back. "I don't know what to do." It feels like such a betrayal. He's only a year older than she is, but he's used to feeling like he has the answers, like he can take care of her like she's Octavia or something. And if she was Octavia, he thinks he could do better. But this is _Clarke_ , and her dad is dead. He wouldn't--couldn't--be anywhere except with her, even if all he's going to do is hold onto her.

"I don't either."

"Okay," he says. "We'll figure it out together."

*

"Do you need me to give you a ride home?" Abby asks. She sounds more exhausted than anyone Bellamy has ever met in his life, and looks even worse. It's even stranger to see her in mourning than it was to see Clarke. He's so used to thinking her as something other than a person, the living embodiment of stern-but-vague disapproval. Her facade has never cracked in front of him before, and all at once it exploded and all the broken parts and jagged edges are on display.

"Can we stay?" he asks. "Octavia's asleep, I don't want to wake her up." He glances down at Clarke's head in his lap, the steady rise and fall of her breath, a predictable reminder that she's okay, despite everything. "Or Clarke."

Abby's mouth twitches. "Where are you going to sleep?"

"Here, probably."

"Oh, to be young and not worried about sleeping sitting up on a couch."

"I'm worried she won't get back to sleep if I move her." He clears his throat, feeling too grown up. His mom offered to come over, but he told he it wasn't necessary. Now, he wishes he'd told her to come, so she could be the adult and he wouldn't have to be. "How are you doing?"

"I've been better." But she's smiling a little. "At least you're here."

"Me?"

"I wish I could be everything Clarke needs, but I know I'm not. Jake's always understood her better than I do, and now--" She looks away. "I'm glad she has you. To help her through this."

"Me too." But he can't keep it up. "I don't know how to help her," he admits. "I don't know what to do."

Her expression will stay with him for the rest of his life, that tired smile on the verge of tears. "That's the nice thing about soulmates. You don't have to do anything. You're just there, and it helps."

It doesn't feel possible, but his hand is in Clarke's hair, gently stroking her scalp, and she's smiling a little in her sleep. It's been a long, awful day, and it's going to be followed by many more, but there's nowhere else in the world he'd be. For as long as Clarke wants him there, he's going to be by her side.

It's what he always wanted out of a soulmate.

"You should get some sleep," he tells Abby. "We're good here."

"I should," she agrees. "Goodnight, Bellamy."

"Goodnight."

*

Aurora gets the results of her test three weeks before Bellamy's supposed to leave for college.

"It could be worse," he says, and Clarke gives him the look he knew she would.

"You don't have to look on the bright side of your mother's cancer diagnosis."

"You don't really want me to look on the dark side, do you?"

She winces, and guilt floods his mouth, hot and sharp. He knew she'd feel bad, but he said it anyway. "I just meant--"

"I know." He sighs and leans into her, letting her put her arms around him and tangle her fingers in his hair. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called, I'm a mess."

"You should have. You get to be messy too, Bellamy, it's not just me."

He gives her a look. "Are you kidding? When am I not a mess?"

"You're so convinced you're a huge burden, but you're not. And this is one of those times where I'd be a lot more worried if you weren't a mess. That's what I meant, with--"

"Yeah, I know." He sighs. "I just feel like it's my fault."

" _How_?"

"Like I jinxed it. I know it's stupid, you don't have to tell me. But I knew going to college out-of-state was--"

"Bellamy. Stop."

She knows exactly how hard it was for him to convince himself he could actually leave. He's not even going _far_ , a few hours away, but it felt like this great betrayal, something no one would really forgive him for, not Octavia or his mother or even Clarke. 

Which means Clarke has already spent way too long telling him not to worry about this, and it's unfair to make her do it again.

"I know you're spiraling," she says, gentle. "And I get it. But you and I both know your college choice didn't _give your mother cancer_."

He feels his mouth twitch, against his will. "When you put it like that."

"Do you have a better way to put it?"

"No, that was pretty much it." He sighs. "I should stay, right?"

"You know what, I was wrong.You know how I told you not to look on the bright side? I was wrong. Let's talk about how it could be worse."

"It's not like she has six months to live or anything. The doctor said with chemo, they might get it under control. We have insurance. Her doctor is at your mom's hospital, so I know she'll help out and advocate for my mom. There's no good way to get cancer, but this would be it, if there was. It would have been so much worse ten years ago. But it still feels like the wrong time for me to be leaving."

"What could you do if you were here?" she asks. "Trust me, if I thought this was a good reason to keep you around next year? I'd tell you. I don't want you to go. But what can you do from home that you can't do from four hours away?"

"Babysit."

"Octavia's twelve. You were babysitting her when you were eleven. If you were old enough for that, she's old enough to be home alone."

"Yeah, but I wasn't old enough for that."

She shrugs, conceding the point. "Okay then, what could you do here for the next year that I can't do?"

"It's not just next year. It's--"

"It's one year at a time. If this year is too hard, we can figure something else out. But I'm still around. Maybe I'll go to school somewhere closer to home anyway."

He can't imagine it. Clarke can go anywhere. Bellamy's school choice was motivated mostly by scholarships; he's excited about his college, but he picked it because he could make the money work. There were closer places where the money would have worked as well, but he's spent his whole life defined by his relationships to his family and to Clarke. If he doesn't get away from them, he doesn't know if he'll ever feel like his own person.

It can be the right call and still feel shitty.

"You can go anywhere you want," he tells her.

"Maybe I'll want to go somewhere close."

"Maybe."

"If the doctor was saying she had a year to live, I'd tell you something different. But there's nothing you can do here that you can't do at college. I know you think you can't have this, but you can, okay? It's yours. You don't have to talk yourself out of what you want."

For the first time, he thinks about kissing her. About actually _doing_ it, that is. He's thought about the act of kissing her before, absently, unconsciously. He's had dreams about it, sometimes. But he's always been able to talk himself out of letting the passing thoughts crystallize into actual fantasies. Clarke is his best friend and his soulmate, and she's never wavered from her devotion to that not being romantic. And, okay, kissing doesn't have to be romantic, but it would be complicated.

But it's like a key opening a lock, when she says it. How long has he been talking himself out of wanting to kiss her? What would it be like if he stopped trying, if he just raised his hand, slid it into her hair, and tugged her in? How much simpler would his life be if he just let himself kiss Clarke Griffin?

He actually has to shake himself out of it. It wouldn't be easier. It would be so stupid.

"I know," he tells her, even if he barely knows where he is right now. Too much has happened today; his brain is done. "I'm going to make my mom and O tell me it's okay too."

"They're going to tell you it is."

He wets his lips, weighing the words before he says them. "If your dad had been sick before he died, would you have left?"

"How long before he died?" Her voice is so steady, her response so quick, that he wonders if she saw the question coming. He could be getting predictable. "You don't know that your mom is going to die, Bellamy. We don't know what's going to happen. All we know is that she's sick, and maybe she'll get better, or maybe she'll die in a week or a month or a year. But--you can't just put your life on pause until you have an answer."

"I just keep thinking about--when your dad died, and you said you were just there at school while he was dying, and you didn't even know. I don't want it to be like that."

"I think you'll have enough warning to say goodbye," she says, careful and so soft. "That's what I wanted. To say goodbye to him. And I wanted more time with him, yeah, but I don't wish that--" She cuts herself off with a little laugh. "I don't wish I stopped going to school or hanging out with friends or whatever so I could be at home more. I wanted him to be in my life for longer, and I wanted to appreciate him while I had him. You can do that from school."

"You couldn't just tell me that I should stay home?"

"I could. But it's not the right call. You're excited about college."

"Yeah." He closes her eyes. "I'm scared, Clarke."

"I know. But you're going to be fine."

She says it so easily, so certainly, that he can't do anything except believe her.

*

"Tattoo or soulmark?"

Bellamy smirks at the girl. She's hot, dark hair, dark eyes, long legs. She doesn't look a thing like Clarke.

"Soulmark. But it's not like that."

The girl snorts. "Yeah, I've heard that before."

"Really?"

As he expected, it gives her pause. There are shitty people in the world who cheat on their soulmates, but he doubts this is how they do it. And he's still in the minority, having his soulmark both this young and this obviously. In his experience, it's a new situation for most people who are hitting on him.

"No, I guess not."

"We met when we were in elementary school. She's my best friend, but she's not interested."

The girl's eyebrows go up. He had this conversation enough times freshman year that by now, he could probably recite it from memory. Even the people who have never had it before know all their lines.

" _She's_ not interested?"

"Look, if you're looking for a boyfriend, I'm not your guy. If you're looking for a fun night, I could be."

This is the part where the script falters. Some people don't mind, some people don't believe him, some weren't just looking for one night. It doesn't matter much to Bellamy which option they pick, but it's always kind of interesting.

"I could use a fun night," says the girl, and he grins. 

"Cool, me too."

They dance a little, exchange general information. Her name is Roma, she's a sophomore too, planning to major in econ. Her soulmark is a heart on her hand, which feels a little on-the-nose, but it's not like it's his soulmark.

"I'm kind of glad I don't know him yet," she says, as they walk back to his dorm. "Like, I'm glad I can have fun before--oops. Sorry. I guess it kind of sucks for you, right?"

"Nah. It's fine. I'm used to it." He shrugs, gives her a smile. "I love her, and she loves me. If she doesn't want to make out, I'll live."

"Yeah, but why wouldn't she?"

Sometimes, Bellamy thinks about bringing it up, but now seems like a bad time. Being apart for college is a choice they both made, and as much as it sucks, he thinks they need it. And maybe, by the end of it, they'll decide they are that kind of soulmates after all.

Not that he's going to say any of that to Roma. He just flashes her a smile and says, "Well, you don't know me very well."

She's still there when the phone wakes him up the next morning, but all he has to say is, "It's my sister, something must be wrong," and she takes off. 

"Mom's not doing so great, Bell," Octavia says, and it's all he needs. He doesn't have classes on Friday this semester, which is why he was at a party in the first place. According to Octavia, Aurora woke up early feeling bad, but she didn't call him until they took her to urgent care, at which point the doctor said it was serious.

He doesn't call Clarke at first because it's so early, and then because he's driving, and then he's hugging his sister, telling her it'll be okay, and talking to the doctors, and by the time he's sure that his mother is going to die today, he realizes he just--can't. He doesn't know what to say to her. She and Aurora parted on good terms the last time they saw each other, and they've never been close. Maybe he's selfish, maybe he's an asshole, maybe she'll never forgive him.

But she's his soulmate. He thinks it's more likely she'll understand. There's a long list of people he could call and he's just not going to call any of them.

There's only one visitor at a time in her room, so he lets Octavia go first. If he can't say goodbye, he'll live with it. But O doesn't stay long. He hugs her when she comes out, and she clings to him.

"I don't know how to be there," she admits, and Bellamy nods. 

"It's okay. You can wait out here."

"I feel bad."

"Don't. She knows you love her. And only one of us can be in there anyway."

He squeezes her again, has to force himself to let go and into the small room. Over the summer, he saw his mother getting worse, but everyone agreed he didn't need to leave school. Like Clarke said, his being around wasn't going to make a big difference, and if they needed him--

Well, Octavia called, and he's here. If he hadn't left last month, maybe she'd be in better shape, but no one thought it would make much of a difference. 

It's still a shock to see her like this. Maybe it's just that she's in the bed, surrounded by monitors, but she looks so much worse than the last time he saw her. Octavia never mentioned, but maybe it's been coming on gradually, so gradually they didn't even realize.

"Hey," he says, sitting down next to her. It's not the cancer, the doctor said, but an infection, something she picked up somewhere that's hitting her harder than it should. It's the cancer's fault, but that's not the direct cause of death.

"You didn't have to come."

"Mom, come on. Of course I came."

"It's good you'll be here for your sister. Is Clarke here for you?"

"No. I'll call her later."

She smiles a little. "Since I won't get another chance, I guess I'll ask now: what are you waiting for?"

"Uh, not to be morbid, but I thought I'd call her once--we know what's going to happen."

"I didn't mean today. I mean, you've had your soulmate since you were eleven years old, and you're still dating other people. What are you waiting for?"

"Oh." He shifts, awkward. He's never had this discussion with anyone, let alone his mother. His _dying_ mother. "We decided the day we met, we're platonic soulmates, remember?"

"I thought you'd outgrow that. I always assumed it was my fault, anyway."

His brow wrinkles. "How would that be your fault?"

"I taught you that one, didn't I? You asked if your father had a soulmate, and I said he had the platonic kind."

If anyone had asked where he learned the phrase, he might have come up with that. It does sound familiar, being a kid, pestering his mom with questions about his dad and why he wasn't around. _He had a soulmate, just a platonic one_. It sounds familiar. 

"I was eleven, I thought kissing was gross. You didn't do anything except teach me the word for it."

"I'm sure there are some people with soulmates like that, but your father wasn't one of them. Or maybe he was, I don't know. If he loved his soulmate the way he was supposed to love her, I assume he wouldn't have cheated on her with me."

His heart lodges in his throat. It hadn't mattered to him much, but he had always thought that his dad had been--like him. Even if he hadn't remembered it, he must have known, somewhere deep down. He thought he knew his parents' story, and now he's getting the real story an actual, literal deathbed confession.

"Did you know?"

"Not until I got pregnant. I told him, I thought it wouldn't be a big deal. If he and his soulmate weren't like that. That was when he told me he was married. I felt so stupid. Not that I thought--I had my own soulmate, I didn't think we'd live happily ever after. But I thought he'd help. That we'd make a strange little family."

His mouth is so dry, he can barely get the words out. "I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"Not for that. For--I found her. Clarke. And you never met your--"

"You still didn't do anything wrong. It doesn't work out for everyone, Bell. But I think it could work for you. So what are you waiting for?"

"Graduation," he says, and it comes out like a promise. 

"Good." She reaches for his hand, and she feels so fragile. She hasn't always been the best mother, hasn't been what he thinks mothers are supposed to be. But she's been _his_ , and he doesn't want her to go yet. "You're a good boy, Bellamy. I'm proud of you."

They're not his mother's last words, not even her last words to him. There's more talking, discussions with the doctor, things to be said before it's over.

But that's what he remembers.

*

"You haven't asked what happened," Bellamy tells Clarke, in the hotel. He left pretty much as soon as the doctors declared his mother dead, drove all the way to Clarke without saying a word to her beforehand. It just seemed too daunting, to tell her everything over the phone. The end result was going to be the same either way.

"I figured I knew. She had cancer, it doesn't take a genius to connect the dots. I assume it all happened today?"

It's unreal to think that twenty-four hours ago, he was hooking up with Roma. It feels like it happened in a completely different world.

"Yeah, O called this morning. Sorry you didn't--I figured you wouldn't mind if you didn't get a chance to say goodbye."

She smiles, and _all_ the tension in his body doesn't ease, but all of the tension about Clarke does. They're okay.

"I don't, and I'm the last thing you should be worrying about right now. I had class anyway, I couldn't have made it for a while. I feel a little bad I was at a party, though."

She's still smiling, so he smiles back. "I had a girl over when O called."

"In the morning?"

"It was like six-thirty! She stayed the night."

Clarke's eyebrows shoot up. "Stayed the night? Is this girl a girlfriend?"

He rolls his eyes. "I'm not going to kick someone out of bed just because we're not dating. You don't stay the night?"

"Depends on the person. I guess I probably would with you."

"Uh, yeah, I hope so."

She laughs. "Not, like--if I didn't know you and you were some random guy I met at a party, I'd probably stay the night. You give off trustworthy big-brother vibes."

"If that's true, I can't believe I ever get laid."

"Well, you also look like that."

He knows she thinks he's hot, so he tries not to think about it. Probably it's gross to be thinking about how he feels about Clarke at all, given his mother just died, but in his defense, his mother started it. Him figuring out his shit with Clarke was her actual dying wish.

He didn't think he was _that_ bad.

"Speaking of which, are we sharing this bed, or is one of us sleeping with Octavia?"

They put O to sleep in one of the hotel room beds, and she's been zonked out since. He's grateful for the time to talk to Clarke, but part of him wishes he'd just let her get her own room.

But he wanted her close, and he still does. It's what soulmates are for.

"I figured we were sharing. I could use some company tonight."

It sounds like what he'd say if he was picking her up, but her smile softens like it's the sweetest thing he's ever said to her.

"That's what I was hoping you'd say."

*

Gina Martin is the kind of girl Bellamy would have asked out in high school, if he knew her then. He probably would have gone and asked her out out of spite after Clarke told him she liked Lexa, which would have been a shitty thing to do, and it's just as well he's past that.

He doesn't mean to make anyone think he's dating her now, it just kind of happens, a chain of events he should have seen coming but somehow doesn't.

First, he finds out Gina doesn't have anywhere to go for Christmas. Second, he asks Clarke if he can bring someone to dinner at her parents. Third, Octavia asks who he's bringing and he says _Gina_ , without any further explanation, because he thought he'd mentioned her before as a friend or a classmate or something. 

But apparently O has other ideas, because, fourth, Clarke texts _Octavia says you're bringing your girlfriend?_ and Gina is there at the time, so instead of just saying no, he shows her the text.

"You want me to be your girlfriend?" she asks. When he frowns, she clarifies, "Just for Christmas. So you can see how she reacts."

It feels a little sketchy, but not _that_ sketchy. He's not making a move until Clarke graduates and they can be living in the same place full time, so he's got a while. And he's never actually brought anyone he was dating to meet Clarke. There is a part of him that's curious how it would go. 

And he's had to deal with meeting plenty of her significant others. Fair's fair, right?

"That's not going to be weird for you?"

"Is there any way that going to your soulmate's mom's house for dinner could be anything other than weird for me?"

"I think not pretending to be my girlfriend would probably help."

"It'll give me something to do. Your call. I just thought it might help."

He stares at the phone for a long moment, trying to make up his mind. In the end, curiosity wins out; he has to know if Clarke is going to be jealous, if she'll be possessive, if she'll care at all.

If he's the only one who broke their deal and fell in love.

_Yeah, I'm bringing my girlfriend. It's pretty new, but I like her and she doesn't have anywhere to go. Is that cool?_

The pause is longer than he'd expect for such a short response: _cool_.

*

Christmas is fine. Octavia's more aggressive than Clarke, which checks out, and Abby is a little awkward, but once everyone gets used to each other, it's pretty much fine. If anything is suspicious in Clarke's behavior, she's almost _too_ nice, too interested, too friendly, too welcoming. She's bending over backwards for Gina, but this is new for her. Clarke's probably worried that Gina will see her as a threat, so she's trying not to be threatening. It's kind of cute, if not exactly encouraging.

What's encouraging is the way that Clarke asks how Gina is doing every few days for the next couple months, which is the only reason he keeps the lie up. She's kind of obsessed with the relationship, and he can't help thinking that he's done the same thing. It's why he _still_ asks after Raven so much, this sinking certainty that it's going to work out for them and not for him.

Octavia's the one who actually figures it out. "Gina isn't really your girlfriend," she tells him in March.

She sounds so sure, he doesn't see any point in denying it. "How did you know?"

"You never talk about her. She's not in your stories except as, like, a random person. Why did you lie?"

"You assumed."

"And then you didn't correct me and lied about it. At _Christmas_. You're still lying to Clarke."

He sighs, rubs his face. It's just as well they're having this conversation over the phone; he's already turning red. "I know. Gina made it sound like a good idea."

"And now you're blaming her? Wow, Bell."

"Not--" He huffs. "She thought it would be good to see how Clarke reacted, okay? To see if she was jealous."

There's a long pause, and then she exclaims, "I told you you were going to marry her!"

"Jesus, keep your voice down. You live with her mom."

"Abby's not home. You're in love with Clarke!"

Honestly, the only reason he didn't tell her sooner was that he knew she'd be like this. "Yeah. Seriously, you're so loud Clarke's going to hear you at school."

"Why don't you just tell her?"

"I'm going to. At her graduation." It's probably not a bad idea to tell someone who's still alive to hold him accountable.

"Why graduation?"

"Because it's not like we can move in together before that."

"You could still be together."

"Because it's a big deal and I have to psych myself up."

"She's going to say yes, you know. Like--come on. It's so obvious."

"Yeah?"

"You're soulmates," she says. "Of course you're supposed to be together."

"That's not as reassuring as you think. I was hoping you had a copy of her diary or something."

"I'll see what I can do. But tell her you and Gina broke up or something, this is just sad, seriously."

"You always say my whole life is sad."

"Well, have you looked at your whole life? Come on."

"Thanks, O."

"You know she loves you, Bell," she says, quiet and patient.

"I know, yeah." He knew she loved him six years ago, when he was Octavia's age. He's never doubted it.

But you can love people all kinds of ways. She might really be happy, to not have the expectation of loving him like this. When they were younger, he'd been happy about it too. Things had been so much easier, when he thought they were a different kind of soulmates. 

Still, it would be easier too, wouldn't it? It's always been so exhausting, trying to explain Clarke to people, his soulmate but not like that, the person who understands him and loves him unconditionally, the first person he goes to in times of crisis, who gives him everything but romantic love. Unless he found someone else in the same situation, he can't imagine he'd find someone willing to settle for second-best like that. It's why Raven is so scary, still. Clarke could already have this.

But she might not, too. And maybe that's what happened with his dad. Maybe it really was platonic on his dad's side, but he got talked into marriage anyway, decided he could give it a chance, and that's why he cheated on his soulmate. 

Or he was just an asshole who cheated on his wife and soulmate. Clarke wouldn't do that. If she's not interested, she'll just tell him. 

At her graduation. He still needs some time to figure out what the fuck to say.

But Octavia's right about the whole Gina thing, so when Clarke texts the next day, he says, _Me and Gina broke up_.

His phone starts buzzing with a call, even though Clarke hates talking on the phone. Breakups are serious enough for her to suck it up and get in touch; he should lie about this stuff more often.

Or not.

"I'm fine," he says, by way of greeting. "We weren't that serious."

"You brought her home for Christmas."

"She couldn't get enough time off work to go home, I wasn't going to tell her to not come. It's not about how serious we were, I just didn't want her to be alone for the holiday. We were friends before we started dating and we're still friends."

"You're allowed to be upset about breakups, Bellamy. You don't always have to be cool about everything. If you need to talk, you can talk to me. If you need ice cream, I can bring you some."

He snorts. "Seriously, I don't need you driving four hours to go to the grocery store for me, I can buy my own ice cream."

"But you do need ice cream."

"I don't need it, but as soon as you said ice cream, I started craving it."

"So I should come down."

"You know I never say no to a visit from you, but it seems like overkill. You don't have to worry."

"Yeah, not worrying. Really sounds like me."

"Okay, well, worry about something other than me. I know you've got plenty of stuff to stress about. You're graduating in a couple months, there's plenty to obsess over. I already graduated and have a real job that's destroying my soul, I'm set."

She laughs. "You like your job."

"It can still destroy my soul when I like it. That just makes it worse."

"Teaching isn't really that bad, is it?"

"It is and it isn't. I always thought this was what I wanted to do, and I'm good at it. If it was just teaching, I'd be fine. But between administration and parents--there's so much more bullshit than I realized."

"No wonder all of our teachers in high school were so bitter."

"Yeah, I'm really starting to get it."

"But you're good, right? Not just with the breakup. You've been a little--I don't know. You just seem kind of off."

Considering how much he hates lying to Clarke, he's doing an awful lot of it. "It's just work. Getting used to not being in school. I'm okay," he assures her, and that, at least, really is true. And, for some bonus truth, he adds, "Once you're done with school and back here, I'll feel better."

"Or wherever I end up," she says. "I don't have a job yet, remember?"

"And this isn't exactly the coolest place to go after college."

"I'm not saying I don't want to come there, just--I don't want to get our hopes up. I don't want to come home and have to live with my mom."

"You wouldn't have to live with your mom," he says, too quickly. His place isn't really big enough for her, not unless they're together. "We'd figure something out."

The silence feels long, but maybe he's just too aware of the things he isn't saying, the offers he isn't making. "We would, yeah. I should get back to work."

"Thanks for calling. I appreciate you worrying about me instead of other stuff for a few minutes."

"Any time."

He flops back on his bed and stares up at the ceiling. Two months, plus change. That's how long he's got to figure out a love confession.

Plenty of time.

*

_I need your parking pass._

It's almost five on Saturday and Bellamy has been grading for long enough that he actually second-guesses his ability to read words. He was about to take a break, maybe start thinking about dinner, when the text from Clarke came.

He's coming up with catastrophes as he calls her. If something happened to Abby, Octavia would know, and she would have gotten in touch during the four hours it would take Clarke to drive down here. What else could be bad enough for her to drive down?

She picks up immediately. "Hi."

"You're here?"

"Yeah."

"Holy shit. What's wrong?"

She laughs, but it sounds a little shaky. "Existential crisis. I'm on the second floor of the parking lot."

"Be down in a sec."

He grabs the parking pass and books it to the lot, brain working overtime on what kind of existential crisis she could be having. It's mid-April, and she only has a few weeks of college left, so he assumes it's about her life and her future, but they do talk about those fairly regularly. And she seemed like she was doing okay. She's majoring in biology and art and wants to work in a lab for a few years before she makes her mind up about grad school. He'd thought she was doing okay.

She's leaning against her car, arms crossed over her chest, but she straightens up when she spots him, smiles big. He gives her half a hug before he gets the permit put in place and the car locked, watches her for cracks as they start walking back to the stairs.

He can't figure it out just looking at her, so he asks, "Did you get a job?"

"I drive four hours with an existential crisis and your first guess is that I got a job? That would be good news."

"In, like, China or something," he clarifies. It's not like she gave him much time to come up with guesses. "Something that had you wondering if you should take it or move back here."

She cocks her head at him. "What would you tell me if that was what was happening?"

"Honestly? I don't know." He's made up his mind to go pretty much anywhere she does in the continental United States, but getting to another country would be more complicated. 

"It's not that."

"Good. So what is it?"

She worries her lip. She doesn't look sad or heartbroken or anything, but she does look stressed. "Once we're inside?"

"Sure."

It's not until she's downed half a glass of iced tea that she tells him, "Raven got a new soulmate."

"What, at the store?"

"At a conference." She looks down at her own hands, at the mark on her knuckles. "She shook his hand and there it was, a matching soulmark. I googled it a little, it's uncommon, but it does happen. People who have more than one soulmate."

His heart sinks. "Okay. Are you jealous?'

"Jealous?"

She sounds so incredulous that he feels stupid for ever having wondered. "I always figured you two might--I thought maybe you liked her. It would have worked out pretty well."

"Oh, no. I don't--I don't think of her like that."

"Okay. So--" He gestures for her to go on. So far, she hasn't said anything that explains why the fuck she's here.

She finally looks up from her hands. "I didn't think it happened. I didn't know you could have two."

There's a fierce, stubborn look in her eyes, like she's willing him to understand, and all at once, it clicks. "Clarke. I'm not going to get another soulmate."

"You could."

He smiles, but his heart is racing. She drove down here to see him because she was so worried he might have someone else. "I'm twenty-three, that's way too old for anyone to punch me in the face again."

"Never say never. You can be kind of a dick." Her tone matches his, teasing, but her eyes are sharp. "Would you want that?"

"Another soulmate? No." He's feeling surer by the minute, but he cant help himself. "Would you?"

Her response is immediate, so certain.

"No. Just--you don't ever feel like you're missing out?"

It's a month early, but he knows with a jolt of clarity that this is it. This is how he tells her. "Yeah, I do. But not like you're thinking."

Her face is smooth and her tone is even. "Not like I'm thinking."

He really hopes he's right, or this is going to suck.

"I'm so fucking in love with you, Clarke. I don't want anyone else, I never want anyone else, but--fuck, I want--"

The kiss is everything he's been wanting since that first moment that he thought he could kiss her, since before then, even. It's not exactly what he imagined but it doesn't have to be, because Clarke is pressing against him, and she fits so perfectly into his arms, and she wants him. She drove four hours because she thought there was some universe where there could be anyone for him but her.

He laughs with the stupid perfection of the whole thing. "Fuck. I had this whole stupid speech."

She's grinning, her hair a mess from his hands already. She's the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "You did?"

"For when you graduated, to explain why I was moving wherever the fuck you ended up. Why I wanted you to move in with me."

"What was it?"

There's a draft on his computer, and he'll definitely let her read it, but he'd rather be touching her right now. There are so many parts of her he hasn't kissed yet, he wants to get started. "You would have made fun of me."

"I still can." She tugs him back up to her mouth, which works too. "Tell me."

He's gone through a lot of versions; he's not even sure this one would have been the one he used. But he thinks she'll like it. 

"Honestly?" He brushes his nose against hers. "It was all about the history of the term platonic and how it's about--the platonic ideal is the best, and how stupid it is acting like the ideal form of love can't involve sex, like it's some corrupting force instead of something some people want and some people don't, and how, uh--" He falters, because its a little about his dad, too, and how he learned the word, and what he thought it meant, but that doesn't fit in this moment. He'll tell her later, but this is for them. "I love you, and I don't think we'd ruin the sanctity of our bond if we fucked."

She laughs. "Wow."

"I told you you'd make fun of me."

"I was actually thinking we hadn't checked if sex ruins our special bond yet," she says. "You want to test that out?"

He grins. "I thought you'd never ask."

She laces their fingers together as she leads him toward the bedroom. It feels a little fast, but it's not like they haven't taken their time.

Maybe she's thinking the same thing. "How long?"

"For what?"

"You were planning a confession. For how long?"

"Uh. I guess it depends what you mean."

She frowns over her shoulder at him. "I didn't know it was ambiguous."

He sits down on the side of the bed, feeling suddenly guilty. When he wasn't sure she felt the same, it was easy to justify putting it off. Now, he feels like an asshole.

But he can finally be honest. "Senior year of high school, I wanted to. But I was leaving, so I never really thought about saying it then. But I, uh--I promised my mom I'd tell you for graduation. It was her dying wish."

She sits down next to him heavily, like her legs gave out. "That long?"

"Yeah."

"Why did you wait?"

"Because I was afraid you'd say no. I had all these justifications but--that was it. I thought you wouldn't want me."

She leans into him. "I get that."

"I'm still sorry."

"I could have told you too. I was trying not to--" She sighs. "I thought it was what you wanted."

"You don't have to apologize." He swallows, but he might as well get it all out. "I wasn't dating Gina. She just wanted to see if you'd be jealous."

To his profound relief, she laughs. "I was. Raven yelled at me."

"Octavia yelled at me too."

She wraps her arms around him, and he puts his arm around her shoulders, kisses her hair. "I love you too," she says. "In case it wasn't obvious."

"Not to me," he teases. "Thanks for clearing it up."

*

"Can I get your help with something?"

Bellamy glances up to see Emori in his classroom door. "Probably. What's up?"

"One of my students just grabbed another to stop them tripping and they found out they're soulmates and I really don't feel like I'm equipped to have that conversation. You're the only person I know who found their soulmate before they could drive."

He's already standing up to go with her. "Yeah, but I wasn't good at it." 

"You two are married and you just adopted a foster child. Tell me again how you're not a success story?"

"It took twelve years to figure it out and I thought I was fucking up the whole time."

"Everyone feels like that for those twelve years, it's called being a teenager. Or teenager-adjacent. You don't want me to send them to Lexa, do you?"

As high-school guidance counselors go, Lexa is actually one of the best ones Bellamy has met, but mostly in the sense that she is incredibly, almost super-humanly good at figuring out what colleges would be good fits for the students and getting them into those colleges. It's just that she's basically useless for any kind of emotional issues. She has a soulmate, and the two of them seem very happy together, but that doesn't mean she'd have any particularly good insight for the kids. He'd be doing everyone a favor, Lexa included, by taking point on this one.

"I'm coming with you, aren't I?"

"Just complaining the whole time."

"I don't want you to start thinking I like helping people or anything."

"Yeah, god forbid anyone figure out you're a giant softie."

The kids are still in Harper's classroom. They're talking, but startle apart when she knocks on the doorjamb. It's a little like seeing back in time, remembering the feeling of never having enough time, those first few days, to just figure each other out. Of feeling like adults were just there to get in the way.

"Hey," he says, with a little wave. "You're Tris, right?" he asks the girl. She and Madi are friends, she's been over to the house a couple times. "And--"

"Ethan," the boy supplies.

"I won't keep you too long, I know you'd rather talk to each other. But not a lot of people have been where you are, and I have, so if you have any questions, let me know."

"How old were you when you met Clarke again?" Tris asks.

"I was eleven, she was ten."

"That's _so_ young," she says, like there's a meaningful difference to him, at this point, between eleven and fourteen. "When did you get married?"

"I was twenty-five."

"Why did you wait so long?" asks Ethan.

"Because we didn't want to get married until then. And we didn't know what kind of soulmates we were for a while."

"How many kinds are there?"

"Not to be hokey, but I don't think I've ever met a pair of soulmates who are exactly the same. Me and Clarke didn't think we were going to be the kind of soulmates who got married, but we changed our minds. I know--probably you've always thought that finding your soulmate is it, right? That everything else is easy after that. But it's not. There's still a lot of stuff to figure out and work through. But if you're lucky, and you trust each other, it can make things easier. Because you've always got someone on your side. It's not about kissing or sex or getting married. It's just about having a person who's there for you, however you need. Everyone's going to laugh and make jokes about it for a while, because they don't know anyone else their age with a soulmate, but--all that matters is what you two want to be to each other."

The silence stretches until finally Tris says, "Sorry, Mr. Blake, but that was still really hokey."

Bellamy laughs. "Yeah, sorry. Honestly, our school tried to do the same thing for us, giving us someone for us to talk to, and it didn't work. And I'm still pretty sure no one actually knows what the f--heck to say. There's nothing _to_ say. You two will figure it out. But if you ever want to talk to someone who's been there, my door is always open."

They roll their eyes, but thank him, which was about what he expected, and he goes back to his classroom to finish up his grading before he heads home. 

Fifteen minutes before the late bus, Ethan sticks his head into the room. "Mr. Blake?"

"Yeah?"

"Was it good? Meeting her that early? Or was it just weird?"

"It was so weird," he admits, with a rueful smile. "And it was kind of a headache sometimes. But honestly, I wouldn't change a thing."


End file.
